Last night was our annual church Christmas party and we didn’t go…  We weren’t avoiding the sublime snacks, congenial company, or fabulous fun.  It’s just not exactly easy when your cheeky children’s normal nannies are also participating in the party.  That conundrum coupled with twelve toilsome hours of work on top of five fruitless hours of sleep and it was exponentially easier to have our own private party.  I stopped shortly at the big blue Blockbuster and procured posthaste “Horton Hears A Who”. (Although we are somewhat satisfied Netflix customers.)  Niki made her outstanding onion dip, some serendipitous seven layer bean dip, a variety of veggies and fruits, giant gingersnaps, as well as her fabulous fruit smoothies.  The famished four of us dawdled down to the hospitable home theater room and masticated our meal while being eerily engaged in one of the coolest computerized cartoons I’ve recently rented.  Of course we very much missed the cordial companionship of our familiar friends, but I must also admit that it was alright because we had an extraordinary evening in the caring company of those closest to our cores: The Shemanski Shenanigans